


Things We Said Today

by hafren



Series: Therapy [1]
Category: Blake's 7
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-21
Updated: 2009-11-21
Packaged: 2017-10-03 12:01:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hafren/pseuds/hafren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's therapy. That's all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Things We Said Today

**Author's Note:**

> Then I will remember  
> Things we said today  
> \- Lennon-McCartney

"What the hell is wrong with you all?" Blake's voice shook with anger. ""Could you really turn your backs on what you know? All that suffering, all that injustice… Don't you want to be free to decide where you go and what you do, or are you happy to run and hide for ever? Well, I won't. And I say again: there is no other choice and we are going back." He stormed off the flight deck, though not fast enough to miss Vila's murmur, "What's wrong with _us_?"

In his cabin, he threw a few things about, then slumped on the bed. He'd been there a while when he heard the door open: _damn, I didn't think to lock it_. He didn't want to see anyone, especially the person who came in.

"Go away, Avon, I'm not in the mood for another fight. If it makes you any happier, I know I handled that badly."

"It was certainly an interesting take on freedom and democracy." Avon gave no sign of leaving; instead he sat down on the edge of the bed. "Vila thinks your irritability indicates something amiss with your sex life. He asked Jenna if you'd had a quarrel."

Blake glanced up, alarmed. "What did she say?"

"Very little. Just told him he was way out of line and stalked off, which I found interesting. He then formulated another theory, namely that maybe Jenna was the wrong gender for you and he or I should offer our services." He held up a hand to forestall Blake's exclamations. "Of course Vila has not researched your history, as I have. I know that in the circles of the disaffected you were a legend for more than politics. You had an enthusiastic sex life and no limiting prejudices about gender; you were a free spirit in that as in other ways."

"So? What's it to you?"

"Well, your mental and emotional health are surely of some legitimate concern to me, given that you have such an influence on my safety. And I didn't think Vila's theories wholly stupid. You do seem to be fairly monastic, these days, which can't be easy for a legendary lover." His voice was teasing, but not unkindly so.

Blake laughed bitterly. "You don't know how easy it is, when there's no alternative."

"How do you mean?"

"Just that the stand for freedom and justice is the only kind I can make these days."

"Ah." Avon's eyes widened slightly. "How long have you had that problem?"

"Since the trial. Since I saw those children's faces, heard them tell the court what I was supposed to have done to them…. they really believed it, you know."

"So their memory had been tampered with. That's easy enough; you should know."

"But it was real, to them. And to those who heard it, or heard of it. I never meet anyone new without wondering if they believe it."

"I can understand that." Avon sounded unexpectedly gentle. "But it is surely not a problem here; you must know none of us would think it?"

Blake shrugged. "I've tried, sometimes. With Jenna - it was kind of her not to say anything - and on planet-leave, with people who didn't know who I was. It starts off all right. But as soon as I get close I see those faces in front of me and I just want to be sick. Or celibate."

"There is recognised therapy for this, you know."

"No drugs, no shrinks. I've had enough of them."

"It doesn't involve either. You would need help, but from a bed partner not a doctor. The idea is to take the pressure off by ignoring the bit that isn't working and concentrating on giving and receiving pleasure with other bits of you."

Blake looked sceptical. "How much pleasure can there be, without… ?"

"Oh Blake, really - you may have been an enthusiastic lover but you can't have been a very inventive one."

"Never had to be," Blake muttered, a bit shamefaced. "I mean, when it was working… it was all right, you know, at least no-one was complaining."

"Well, fortunately for you some of us had to try harder and developed an imagination. I'll help you, if you want."

The look Blake shot him was appraising, interested, but very wary.

"You don't trust me?"

"I'm not sure this isn't somehow building up to you having an enormous laugh at me."

"I'm in no position to do that, Blake." He paused, and went on, "I am not much better off than you are."

"What? Are you telling me you can't get it up either?"

"Not exactly. I can, but only…." He looked away, but then gave a little shake of the head and forced his eyes back to Blake's. "Only when I'm thinking about you," he said simply.

Blake just stared, open-mouthed.

"Oh, it's quite true. For some time my sex life has consisted of adolescent fantasies about you. In fact, on our rare planet-leaves I no longer frequent… recreational facilities, because my habit of shouting your name at critical moments struck me as a security risk."

"I'm stunned. I don't know what to say."

"You could accept my offer to help with your therapy. As you see, I'm not offering out of altruism; I just want some new material. And it might help you."

Since Blake's powers of leadership seemed to have deserted him along with his voice, Avon took command. "Undoing… fastenings," he remarked, punctuating the words with the actions, "can be… curiously erotic, if done… skilfully…"

Blake was still bemused. Somehow it had happened that he was lying in his own bed, naked, with someone - no, Avon - telling him in a soft, warm voice how wonderful his skin was to touch, how it smelt fresh, like new bread. Avon's cheek rubbed, catlike, over his stomach and the sensation throbbed all through him and he tried to urge the dark head lower…

"Oh, no. Forbidden territory. Besides, you have no idea what I can do with these." He took a nipple in his mouth and began to tongue it delicately. Blake had always wondered why on earth men had nipples. Suddenly it seemed obvious. The little bud hardened, pleasure on the very edge of pain; Avon's tongue became more insistent and his lips tugged gently, sucking….

Blake covered his face with his hands.

"What is it?"

"I can see them."

Avon took him in his arms and stroked him, not sensually but for comfort. "They aren't there. It didn't happen."

"Do you know that? Do I? Avon, I wonder sometimes - you know they erased some of my memory, what if that was part of it? Sometimes in my dreams, I wonder, what if I did - " His voice broke.

"No, you've never done that," Avon said positively. "In your nightmares, nowhere else. And certainly not in my dreams. You are far too busy screwing me."

"What do I get up to?" There was a hint of a shaky laugh in the voice.

Avon settled his head more comfortably on Blake's shoulder. "Oh, all sorts. Sometimes you kiss every bit of me, and I have to tell you how each one feels. In detail. You love that. Sometimes you put a blindfold and earplugs on me, so that all I have of you is touch and smell and taste…. I love that. Things happening to me in total silence, in the dark, not knowing what's coming next…." He nibbled Blake's earlobe absent-mindedly. "Sometimes I provoke you, make you angry."

"That I can believe. What do I do then?"

"Oh, slap me around a bit and hold me down on the floor until I apologise and promise to behave. Then you reward me."

Blake laughed outright, wondering fleetingly how long he would live if he tried that one for real. "Am I always so… autocratic?"

"You should see yourself when you're making a political speech over the ether to some oppressed planet or other and fucking me on the flight deck at the same time. You're orating about freedom, universal brotherhood, the destiny of humankind, and I'm going _yes, yes, please, please, yesssss!_ like the truest of true believers."

"Stop it… you'll do me an injury." Blake was breathless with laughter.

"Mm. I rather think that's one of my lines, actually." Avon drew the covers over them both and held Blake, convulsed with silent mirth, in the dark. "I still haven't told you," he whispered, "the one that scares me the most."

Blake stiffened. "What do I do in that?"

"You don't do anything. This is the one where I tell you exactly what I think of you."

Blake felt fairly scared of that himself. "And what do you say?"

Avon shifted against him, spoke almost into his mouth. "That you are, as some grievously sentimental poet has it, like the sun seen through a gap in the hills." His voice was husky. "That there is something so whole about you, it feels as if your touch could heal. That being near you warms me so much, I am afraid I'll be drawn into you and burned up. You can be admirably devious and ruthless, and yet somewhere at the very core of you, there is this… integrity. You're who you are, and at that core there is nothing that is not clean and honest and merciful." He took one of Blake's hands, lifted it to his mouth and kissed the back of it. "Nobody who knows you will ever believe those… those filthy lies. You never did it; it isn't in you." He wrapped his arms around Blake so tightly it hurt.

"Thank you," Blake said quietly. "Thank you for that." Avon had hidden his face against Blake's chest; he was shivering slightly. It must have cost him a lot to tear down the screen he had built. Blake drew back the covers, meaning to tilt the face up towards him, and then thought better of it. Don't make him come too far into the light, he'll back off. He felt like kissing the dark hair all over in gratitude, but instead he said lightly, "If you like, tomorrow I'll tell myself you said all that out of kindness, knowing I needed a massive ego-boost."

Avon looked up and sketched a pale copy of his wolf-smile. "Of course."

"Of course." _But for tonight, Avon, I'll know you meant every word. And I'll never forget you said them._ Gently he loosened Avon's grip. "Tell me some more of your fantasies," he whispered. "I was enjoying being centre stage."

But there was no response. Avon's body had stiffened and the face Blake took in his hands looked haunted.

"What's wrong?"

"I'll probably drive you away in the end, you know. It's what I generally do."

"You can't if I don't let you. And I won't."

"Don't overestimate your patience, Blake; it's far from inexhaustible." His eyes were begging Blake to make it not happen, but they didn't look hopeful. Blake enfolded him, stroked him slowly and rhythmically until he felt the tension ease. Get his mind off it, Blake thought, make him lighten up. As he did me. "Come on, " he said teasingly, "what do you do to me in your fantasies? Show me."

Avon's brow creased in a little frown. "Well… I really need the accessories. I don't know how much I can do without the velvet-lined handcuffs and the electric…" He broke off in a yelp as Blake slapped him playfully. "All right, all right. There's this, I suppose."

His fingers began to search Blake's body, in no pattern Blake could fathom, and yet not at random; they clearly knew what they were seeking. It was a while before it dawned on Blake what they were doing. They were looking for the scars of every wound he had ever taken, every mark a gun or blade or instrument of pain had left on him. And everywhere they went, the lips followed, feather-light yet lingering on the place. The old phrase of childhood rushed back on him: kiss it better.

He was deeply touched. But the lips and fingers were stirring more than emotion, he realised with wonder.

"Avon… look…"

"With pleasure. It's beautiful. Hugely impressive. And I would love to worship it as it deserves, but not yet. Too soon. The essence of this therapy is delay, so that it's better when it happens. We need to wait days. Weeks, maybe."

Blake groaned. "Well," Avon amended, "maybe not weeks. I'll ask Orac tomorrow. In the meantime, try sleeping, maybe it'll happen in your dreams. Anyway I'm tired."

He was, indeed, asleep in minutes. Blake stayed awake far longer, resting on one elbow and looking down at his sleeping face. There were creases in the forehead, as if his mind was still troubled.

"I know you can't hear me," Blake whispered, "but I'll say this anyway. Maybe it'll get through to your dreams. You're right about my patience, it can be worn out and nobody can do it like you. But if you ever do drive me away, I'll come back. However many screens you put up, I'll get behind them; however many rejections you throw at me, I won't believe them. I won't give up on you. I know you use words to hide behind, that you say what you don't mean and can't say what you do. You can stand there with a gun in your hand saying "don't come any closer", but I'll still keep walking towards you. I promise."


End file.
